


Cherry Vanilla

by owlpockets



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Canonical Character Death, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-03 08:51:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8705728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlpockets/pseuds/owlpockets
Summary: Calla knew she shouldn’t, but she touched all of Persephone’s things anyway.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was an aborted attempt at the Femslash Big Bang October challenge, "ghost," when I realized it wasn't going to be long enough to submit. I ended up liking it enough to polish off and post anyway.

Calla knew she shouldn’t, but she touched all of Persephone’s things anyway. She waited until Maura was out of the house, because she also knew she would cry, probably long and probably loud. If memories were as close to Persephone’s ghost as she could get, then so be it. 

She didn’t cry, at least not more than a few dry, aborted sobs when she picked up a bent bottle cap on the dresser. Persephone’s warm, hazy worry about Calla after tough day while they sat on her bed passing a bottle of cheap whiskey back and forth into the night. A snarl of fast moving ideas and pounding rhythm overtook Calla when she laid her hands on a pile of Persephone’s handwritten dissertation notes, ruffling the edges of the pages. There was still a half-empty bag of chips on the desk and her laptop was open, battery dead. Calla found the whole idea of a dissertation rather esoteric and unnecessary, but she had tried to read it anyway, a couple of times, when Persephone asked for an extra set of eyes on a chapter draft. Remembering that it would never be finished, and that Persephone probably knew as she kept working on it, hurt Calla’s chest in a way she had not expected. 

But her butterfly bag was the worst. Their first meeting on the side of the road. Taking a mini-break at the beach together during a long weekend, wide hats and toes in the sand. Hitting a mugger over the head in their driveway in a surprising fit of rage while Calla watched from the window in open-mouthed shock and delight. Calla smoothed her hands over the bag repeatedly, memorizing every little nick and loose thread until she picked it up and hugged it to her chest tightly.

She opened the bag and neatly arranged the things inside on the bed, looking at each one carefully. A worn jute coin purse with a fraying embroidered eye, a small brass bell with enamelled with blue stars and moons, a teal wallet overstuffed with coupons and one dollar bills, a small black notebook with a nub of pencil tucked inside, a tube of homemade cherry vanilla lip balm from the farmers’ market. Calla held the lip balm and saw the last time they had fallen into bed together, tipsy and lonely with Maura missing. They had not been exclusive, but Calla thought she might like to be, eventually, not that it mattered now. She slicked on the lip balm and knew Persephone felt the same as she tasted cherry on her tongue.


End file.
